Chapter 8: The Eve

I woke to find Margaret's pendant still fastened around my neck and Maya's bracelet resting on my wrist. Only 2 days until the next full moon and then my fate will be sealed.

Weak and gray light seeped into my small basement window, matching my low spirits exactly. I hadn't really been able to rest as my night was plagued with nightmares. Nightmares about standing in the ceremonial circle as I became the laughing stock of the pack. Nightmares about my transformation, but instead of being a wolf, I find myself some twisted and deformed creature, Alpha Magnus's eyes cold and piercing as he passes judgment.

But one particular nightmare was different from the rest, Golden eyes gazing into the darkness at me, so intensely that my chest felt heavy.

I forced myself out of my bed, each muscle screaming at me. Lately, my body felt a lot heavier, like the earth was working harder to pull me down. Or maybe it was simply the weight of knowing that in 48 hours everything was going to either change for the better, or come to an end.

By the time I reached the top floor of the pack house it was already filled and quite noisy, people getting ready for the start of another day. I tried to keep my head down and move quickly toward the kitchen, hoping to avoid…

"Well, well, well. It looks like the little omega is still hanging around."

I froze.

Zane stood in the hallway in front of me, wearing his training clothes and heading out to the grounds, his dark eyes had that same look of cruelty that I always associated with him.

"Excuse me," I whispered softly, attempting to sidestep him.

But Zane stepped back into the hallway and blocking my path to the kitchen once again. "I’m speaking to you, omega."

"I need to get to the kitchen. Margaret needs…"

"The cook can wait." Zane folded his arms, his muscular frame taking up most of the hallway.

"I want to talk about the ceremony. Are you nervous?"

I didn't answer. There was no right response. Anything I said would be used against me.

"You should be nervous," Zane continued, his voice carrying that false friendliness he always used that was somehow worse than outright cruelty. "Everyone's talking about it. Placing bets. Want to know what the odds are right now?"

"No."

"Too bad. I'm gonna tell you anyway." He leaned against the wall, casually, like we were having a pleasant conversation. "Fifteen to one that you’re unable to shift at all. Ten to one that you try and pass out from the sheer effort. Five to one that you run away before the ceremony even commences."

My hands clenched tightly at my sides. Don't react. Don't give him the satisfaction.

"And here's the most interesting one," Zane said, his smile wide. "Three to one that Alpha Magnus banishes you right on the spot. Two to one that he does something more... drastic, more permanent."

His words hung in the air like a noose.

"I have much work to do," I managed, my voice steadier than I felt.

"Yeah, you surely do. Two more days of work. Then..." He shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe you'll surprise us all I guess. Maybe you'll shift into some magnificent ancient wolf and prove everyone wrong."

He said it in a way that made it clear he didn't buy that for a second.

"Or maybe," he continued, voice dropping lower, "you'll fail just as everyone expects. And then you'll be gone, and this pack can finally be rid of the defect that's been dragging us down for eighteen years."

Something hot flared in my chest. "I'm not a defect." I said

"No?" Zane's eyebrows rose. "Then what are you? You can't shift. You heal slower than a human. You have no wolf characteristics at all. What exactly would you call that omega?"

"I'm still a living being."

"Are you, though?" He tilted his head, studying me like I was an interesting insect he wanted to crush. "Because from where I'm standing, you're just dead weight. And this pack doesn't carry dead weight."

Before I could respond, a door opened somewhere down the hall. Zane straightened up immediately, his cruel smile morphing into a neutral one.

"Think about what I said, omega," he murmured, then strode past me toward the training grounds deliberately bumping into my shoulder almost knocking me down.

I stood there for a long moment, trembling with anger and fear and something else I couldn't name. Then I forced myself legs to keep walking toward the kitchen.

Two days, I reminded myself. Just survive two more days.

---------------------------------------------------------

The kitchen was its usual organized chaos when I arrived. Margaret took one look at my face and quickly pressed a warm mug of tea into my hands.

"Drink up," she ordered. "You look like death itself."

"Thanks," I muttered dryly, but I accepted the mug gratefully. The warmth seeped into my cold hands.

"Rough morning already?"

"Zane."

Margaret's expression darkened. "What did that bastard say to you this time?"

"Nothing he hasn’t said before." I took a sip of the warm liquid, chamomile with honey, my favorite. Of course she remembered, she always did. "Just... reminding me of the odds. Of what happens if I fail."

"When did this pack turn so cruel? I’m ashamed to call myself a member of Moonstone" Margaret said slamming a pot onto the stove with more force than necessary. "I've been here forty years, Sera. I remember when we diligently took care of our weakest members, when we protected those who needed to be protected. And now what do we do? place bets on whether a child lives or dies."

"I'm not a child anymore, Maggie. I'm eighteen in two days." I said almost pouting.

"You'll always be my little girl, my little moon." Margaret's voice softened. "Even if the pack doesn't recognize it."

My throat tightened with emotion, but I forced it down. If I started crying now, I wouldn't be able to stop.

"What do you need me to do?" I asked instead.

Margaret studied me for a moment, clearly wanting to say more, but she dropped it. "The bread dough needs kneading. And someone needs to peel potatoes for tonight's dinner. Take your pick."

"Both. I need to keep myself busy."

"Both it is, then."

We worked in a companionable silence for a while. The rhythmic motion of kneading bread was soothing, and the familiar scents of the kitchen wrapped around me. This was my safe space. Margaret's domain. The one place in the entire pack house where I could almost forget what was coming.

Almost.

"Sera," Margaret said quietly after about an hour. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"If you could leave, if you could just walk away from this pack right now, would you take the chance?"

I stopped kneading, contemplating. "Where would I go?"

"Anywhere. Somewhere no one knows you're an omega. Somewhere you could start afresh."

"Margaret, rogues never survive. Wolves need packs, we need the bond, the connection. Without it, we go mad."

"I know. I know. But what if you could settle in another pack? One that would take you in?"

"What pack would ever take in a wolf who can't shift?" I resumed kneading, pushing the dough harder than necessary. "Even if they did, I'd still be omega. Still at the bottom of the chain. Still..."

"Still suffering," Margaret finished quietly.

"It's fine. I'm used to it."

"No child should ever have to say they're 'used to' suffering." Margaret's hands stilled on the vegetables she was chopping. "I’ve failed you. I should have fought harder to keep you when he separated us. Should have found any way possible to protect you."

"You was nothing you could have done. He's the Alpha."

"That doesn't make any of this right." She set down her knife with trembling hands. "I lie awake at night sometimes, thinking about that cheerful little girl who used to sit on my counter and tell me stories about magical gardens. Wondering where she went. Wondering if I could have saved her."

"You did save me, Maggie" I abandoned the bread dough and went to her, holding her flour-dusted hands in mine. "Every kind word, every warm meal and every moment you treated me like I mattered, you saved me, Margaret. Over and over again. I wouldn't have survived this long, I wouldn’t be here without you."

"But you shouldn't have had to struggle to survive," Margaret whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. "You should have been able to live life to the fullest."

We stood there in the kitchen, hugging each other while the bread dough sat forgotten. Two people who loved each other, powerless against the system that valued sheer strength over compassion.

"Two days," Margaret finally said, pulling herself back and wiping her eyes. "Two more days and we'll know. And whatever happens, Sera, whatever they decide... I just need you to know I'm proud of you. Proud of the woman you've become despite everything they've done to break you."

"I'm not broken yet, though" I said, trying to inject some confidence into my voice.

"No," Margaret agreed, her eyes fierce. "You're not. And that's what scares them most."

--------------------------------------------------------------

I was scrubbing the dining room floor.....again, always again, when I heard footsteps approaching. Dread pooled down my stomach. I looked up, expecting another cruel comment from another pack member.

Instead, I found myself directly face to face with one of the visiting Alphas.

Marcus Hawthorne. The young heir from Ironwood Pack who had defended me at that disastrous dinner what felt like a lifetime ago.

"Hello there" he said, his voice friendly and warm in a way I wasn't used to from anyone outside Margaret and Maya. "I don't mean to pester you, but I was hoping we could talk."

I scrambled to my feet, nearly knocking over my bucket of soapy water. "Alpha Hawthorne, I'm truly sorry, I didn't see you there…."

"Please, just Marcus." He held up a hand, his lips curving. "There’s no need to apologize. I'm the one interrupting your work."

I was short of words, and didn’t know how to respond to that. Alphas never apologized to omegas and they certainly never asked permission to interrupt.

"Can I sit?" Marcus gestured to one of the dining chairs.

"Of course, Alpha. You don't need my permission to…."

"Actually, I do." He pulled out a chair but still waited, until I gave a small nod. Then he sat, gesturing for me to do the same. "Please. Sit with me for a moment."

"I’m sorry but I can’t. I'm working, and if Alpha Magnus finds out…"

"He's in a meeting at the moment with my father and the other Alphas. They'll be occupied for at least another hour." His expression was kind but firm. "Please. Sit."

Hesitantly, I perched on the edge of the chair across from him, very self-aware of my dirty work clothes and the soap stains I had on my hands.

"You're Seraphina, correct?" Marcus asked.

I nodded, quite surprised he knew my full name. Most of the people just called me "omega" or "girl" when they ever bothered to address me at all.

"My father told me you’ll be participating in the Coming of Age Ceremony in the next two days."

My stomach clenched. "Yes."

"Are you nervous?"

What a question. What was I even supposed to say to that? Yes, I'm absolutely terrified because I can't shift and your father and Alpha Magnus are probably discussing whether to kill me right now?

"A little," I said instead.

He leaned forward, his hazel eyes intently on my face. "Can I be honest with you, Seraphina?"

"You can."

"What I witnessed at that dinner, the way they treated you, it was unacceptable. The way this pack treats you in general is unacceptable." He held up his hand when I started to protest. "I know you're going to say it's normal, that it's how things are and that you're used to it. But that still doesn't make it right."

"I'm an omega. It's…"

"Being an omega doesn't mean you’re worthless and it doesn't mean you’re disposable." Marcus said, his voice was passionate now, and I found myself listening despite my wish to shut down this conversation. "In my pack, omegas are valued. They're caregivers, teachers, healers. They're the heart of the pack, not the lowest rung. What Moonstone does, treating you like a servant, like vermin, it's barbaric."

I stared at him, unable to process his words. "There are packs that treat omegas well?" I asked, my eyes widening.

"There are packs that treat all their members well, regardless of rank." Marcus's expression softened. "I'm telling you this because I want you to know that you have options. If the ceremony doesn't go the way you hope it does, if Magnus decides he no longer wants you in Moonstone pack... my pack would gladly take you. No questions asked."

The world tilted on its axis.

"What?"